Winter was bleak.
For six months, Harry had been alone. He made a mistake, and Draco wasn't willing to forgive him for it, so now, with the holidays approaching, he was facing a lonely Christmas.
"Oh Harry, you will join us, won't you?" Molly begged.
"Yeah, maybe," Harry said, though he had no intention of joining the Weasleys at all.
He preferred to bask in his own misery. For the first time in nine years, he was going to spend Christmas alone, and if he had anything to say about it, he would be so drunk he couldn't think.
Maybe then, he could forget those grey eyes.
Maybe then, the world would be less dreary.